


Light the candles when I'm blinded

by Menatiera



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Artist Steve Rogers, Comfort BDSM, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Submission, Praise, Threesome, Wax Play, good scene without subspace, non-sexual bdsm, relaxing in the bed, wax artistry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menatiera/pseuds/Menatiera
Summary: Bucky allowed them to manhandle him, and let them finish. It was a good day, after all. It was a good scene.Bucky allows his boyfriends Tony and Steve to play with him after a hard live TV press conference. They manage to calm him down and help him relax. They manage to turn a bad day into a good one.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45
Collections: Stuckony Love Letters





	Light the candles when I'm blinded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngeNoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [AngeNoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir) in the [Stuckony_server_love_letters](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Stuckony_server_love_letters) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Short prompt 1: A rescue (from a bad date, from a bad guy, from the press, etc...)  
> Short prompt 2: Being soft and gentle with each other after a day that was neither
> 
> AngeNoir, I hope you'll like this! :) If you're okay with it, I'd like to use it also as bingo fills, but totally okay if you want to keep it all to yourself - just let me know :)
> 
> Thank you for my amazing Winnie for commenting and cheering during the writing process :)

"Breathe, baby. You can take it, just take deep breaths and let it go," Tony - no, _Sir_ instructed, and Bucky did his best to obey, despite the voices still screaming in his head.

He didn't notice when his muscles had locked up, but now that his focus was there, he could feel them shift and strain. The warm wax pooling between the dips, mapping the landscape of his back, came back into sharp focus too. With his eyesight blocked, it was even more intense; suddenly he felt blanketed by the ginger scent of the candles, and the way Steve held his hips in place was like having been buried under stones, heavy and unyielding. He was lucky he didn't want to get free from that burden.

"That's it, good boy," Sir was saying, and Bucky knew Tony was kneeling above him, dripping the wax on him, and he wanted to turn around. He wanted to look at him, to feel him even closer. He wanted to wiggle out from under them, but he also wanted to crawl into their embrace, and he just wanted the voices in his head to stop. None of those was up to him, though. He was blindfolded and Steve's hands pinned him down and his job wasn't to turn around and ogle anyone, neither to hide nor to embrace.

His job was to breathe. Sir made that very clear.

He bit on his ring gag and tried to obey. His muscles relaxed slowly as more wax pooled on them.

"You're doing great, Buck," Steve said quietly, but with his usual adoration when it came to Bucky. Steve so often sounded like he was in absolute awe of him and Bucky never understood, but in these moments, his confusion didn't matter either.

He inhaled, took the oxygen in his lungs for four heartbeats, then exhaled slowly. His head was still loud, but it seemed as if those voices got a little bit quieter. He wondered if he should ask for actual bonds, maybe his cuffs or something, to help him...

Sir pinched his shoulder. "You're thinking too much, pretty boy," he said, with a playful edge in his voice, "I told you to relax and breathe and take what I give you."

Bucky wanted to obey desperately.

"Just try it, Bucky. You don't have to succeed, just try," Steve said, because Steve always knew what to say to keep Bucky with them. Steve reminded him that he wasn't expected to perform well as long as he was putting the effort into it, and that made Bucky actually get closer to success. Even despite the fact that he still desperately wanted to impress them.

The images of the earlier day finally started to fade away.

_***_

_"Does Mr. Barnes often react violently to things?" the host asked, not even looking at Bucky, but addressing the question to Tony, who had a black eye that the makeup couldn't fully conceal._

_"This is actually Steve's doing," Tony laughed, earning a shocked gasp from the audience of reporters, "he accidentally elbowed my face while turning in his sleep. See, having strong boyfriends is great when fighting against villains, but it can also cause funny accidents like this. I got to listen to his apologies for an hour after he woke up," Tony explained, and the gasps turned into laughter, because Tony was great like this, and he knew how to get the desired effect. Humanizing his supersoldiers to the press was something that Tony constantly worked on._

_That didn't really help Bucky's mood or the fact that the host of the live TV press conference instantly assumed that a black eye of a superhero must've been a product coming not only from a fellow teammate but of said superhero's boyfriend with the darker past._

_And not being talked to directly despite being present was a foolproof way for Bucky to start spiraling._

_It wasn’t a promising start; and it only went downhill from there._

***

Steve still held his hip down with one hand, but his other was moving on his back. Bucky knew it was Steve - he was the one who loved to play with the wax, turning the canvas Tony made of him into artwork. They made pictures, sometimes, and Bucky had been amazed by the colorful, abstract swirls of the different waxes; or the way Steve was able to accelerate the landscape of muscles; adding shades and highlights like it was nothing, like Bucky was made to be observed. 

Sometimes, even the imperfections were integrated into the artwork.

"Flex this," Steve instructed, and Bucky obeyed, stretched the muscle Steve touched. "Good boy," Steve and Sir said in complete unison, and Bucky had to pay special attention to not melt under the praise just like the wax melted under the flame. He had to keep this position, the left side of his back contorted to an angle as Steve wished for the picture.

Because Steve obviously had a picture in mind, he always did. And Bucky could barely wait to see it.

It was a challenge, nonetheless. He was good at holding positions, even the more uncomfortable ones than this, but it didn't mean that after a while his muscles wouldn't start to shake, nor that he couldn't involuntary jump by the erratic pattern of wax falling on his skin because of Sir's ministrations. Having to pay attention to all these things grounded him just as much as his lovers' touches did, and Bucky allowed his focus to shift, the previous interview falling away from his thoughts.

***

_"Is it true that Winter Soldier always follows orders?" one of the assembled reporters asked, and Bucky tensed up immediately. He didn't have as much practice with these vultures as Steve and especially Tony did, but even he recognized the question as one that couldn't be answered in any way that would be satisfactory for the world._

_If they said yes, the press would have a release about Bucky still being controlled and mindlessly obedient and therefore not to be trusted. If they said no, the press would paint a picture about an unruly and disobedient superhero who therefore can not be trusted._

_Bucky looked at the others, alarmed, and he knew it also was a mistake - he would read later that he couldn't even answer a damned question without needing, what, permission or input or however the journalists would phrase it, but he didn't know which answer was the lesser evil in this case. Which would cause less trouble for them._

_Tony put his palm on Bucky's knee under the table and smiled at the reporter. Somehow seeing his lover smiling after a malicious question like this made Bucky want to throw up._

_"Troy, right, from the Daily Bugle?" The guy laughed a bit nervously, and Tony pointed a finger gun at him. "I remember you guys, don't you think otherwise. Anyway: Winter Soldier is an essential member of this team. His input and expertise when we formulate our plans are basically invaluable, as he's the only one who's able to keep up with Cap and me. I can tell you, it's a feat. It's been several times when we managed to keep damages to a minimum because he was the one to come up with a plan even better than our tactical genius Cap initially pitched to us. He calls us out on our bullshit whenever necessary, and once on the field, he is just as willing to follow orders as any of us."_

_Of course Tony was able to dodge the bullet, and he did it with ease._

_***_

Bucky could always trust his lovers to catch him. It's been a long journey until he fully accepted this - accepted that he was loved, despite his past, that he was cherished, despite his shortcomings - but they were here, now, in a room that smelled of scented sex candles and sweat and them, being attentive and kind after a day that was neither.

Bucky wasn’t sure how long would he be able to hold the position Steve ordered him into, and he mentally prepared himself having to speak up, to warn them.

Steve put his palm on Bucky’s back, pressing down. He could feel the wax shifting, flattening where the pressure was. “Count to twenty in your head, Bucky. At twenty, I want you to relax these muscles.”

He hummed to signal that he understood, and did as ordered. 

_One, two._

Steve was poking his back, or more like the wax half-solidified on his back.

_Three, four._

He wasn’t sure where Sir was. Not above him anymore, but Sir managed to stay so motionless after he had gotten off of him that Bucky couldn’t sense him. Sir gave space so Steve could play with Bucky too, even though Steve wasn’t as much into these games as Tony and Bucky were.

_Five, six._

Steve liked certain aspects of them, and his participation was always based on those parts. Meanwhile, Tony and Bucky loved everything of them, even the messy and fucked up bits.

_Seven, eight._

Their scenes, especially when they were left to their own devices, without Steve there, tended to be more painful, more cruel. They weren’t for comfort, like this light wax play. They were for catharsis. They were to lose themselves in each other.

_Nine, ten._

Maybe that’s why more of them went wrong. Or maybe they really missed Steve there. Bucky couldn’t remember a single scene that went wrong when Steve was there too. It was as if they couldn’t make a lasting mistake as long as all three of them were there for the perfect balance.

_Eleven, twelve._

But as soon as one of them was out of the equation, things went sideways. Kind of like Steve and Tony couldn’t figure their crush out before Bucky. Kind of like Steve couldn’t help Bucky on his own before Tony. Kind of like Tony's and Bucky's relationship was imbalanced before Steve. Kind of like they were all their own kind of miserable before they realized that their broken parts put together made more than a whole.

_Thirteen, fourteen._

There was a shift in the bed, the mattress dipped, and Bucky knew where Sir was. A mere two feet away from his side. He pictured Sir staring at him - naked sans the cooling wax, blindfolded and gagged to be dependent on his boyfriends, turned into art on their whims - and barely stopped himself from squirming. 

_Fifteen, sixteen._

He imagined Sir's intense hyperfocus on him, and his skin prickled. Steve’s large palm covered his nape, and he wanted to mewl like a kitten.

_Seventeen, eighteen._

Sir reached out too, putting his hands on Bucky’s face, and Bucky hoped that as soon as he relaxed, Sir was going to be in his face to kiss him. Well, as much as a kiss was possible with one participant gagged.

_Nineteen, twelve._

Bucky relaxed. The wax on his back cracked as it wasn’t able to follow the shift of his muscles, of his skin. He heard Steve humming above him appreciatively, and he felt Sir's breath ghosting on him - Sir leaned close enough that he must’ve been inches away from Bucky’s back.

“Beautiful. Nice work, Steve,” he commented.

“It’s the merit of the beautiful material to work on,” Steve answered, his voice was oh so warm. His fingers curled and Bucky felt Steve’s nails lightly scraping on his nape and his whole body shivered with how good it felt; being praised, being touched. “Bucky did wonderful. And I’m almost done.”

“He’s our very, very good boy,” Sir agreed, and finally he said those words to Bucky’s mouth and brushed their lips together. Bucky moaned in pleasure.

“Pull him upright,” Steve instructed, “I have a few last touches to do and then I can take the photographs.”

Bucky allowed them to manhandle him, and let them finish. It was a good day, after all. It was a good scene.

***

Steve showed him the pictures afterwards. The swirls of rainbow on the right side of his back, modern and abstract. The dark grey covering most of his left side, thicker on the hills of muscles, barely a sheen in the valleys between them, making him look like a Renaissance statue. And there were the cracks, made by his shift after the wax dried on him, and Steve managed to fill them with a golden color somehow. Bucky wasn’t sure if that was also wax or paint or something else, but it was beautiful, keeping the whole image together, making the seemingly imperfect cracks into higher art.

Bucky studied the picture in awe for a long time while he was sandwiched between his boyfriends. By that time the wax was peeled off, his skin lotioned generously. They took the blindfold off only afterwards, because both Steve and Tony made sure to examine his skin for any sign of lasting burn or injury, and they needed light for that; when Bucky got his sight back, the lights in the room were dimmed to semi-darkness. 

He got fed chocolate and he fed them in return, and they passed a bottle of water between the three of them, but they made sure Bucky drank the majority of it so his skin could get re-hydrated after the wax. Plus he was gagged, and that always made his mouth go extremely dry afterwards.

It was nice. But not as nice as feeling his lovers on both sides, being embraced by strong arms, being covered in small kisses and praises.

Who cared what the world was thinking: he had this. He was good enough for Tony and Steve, and if anyone else had problems with him, could go and fuck themself.

“Is it okay that you didn’t go fully down?” Tony blinked up at him in worry from laying his head into Bucky’s lap, and Bucky actually snorted at that.

“No way I could’ve. I was too worked up from the beginning. But I got a nice, relaxing evening, and that’s all I’ve needed,” he reassured his genius. Tony always wanted the absolute best. Maybe one day Bucky and Steve would be able to make him be pleased with less than that.

Tony pouted, but didn’t pursue the topic further, didn’t argue that he should’ve done better.

Maybe that day was closer than Bucky had thought.

Steve leaned down and pressed a kiss on Tony’s and then on Bucky’s lips. “Go to sleep, both of you, and stop overthinking everything.”

They were complete together, the three of them. Tony got comfortable and Bucky pulled up the blankets and hugged them closer, ready to sleep.


End file.
